I Don't Have A Deep Link With

I Was Very Young When I Prepared Those Prints. I Suspect The Reason I Couldn't Celebrate The Floating World Was That I Couldn't Bring Myself To Believe In Its Worth. Young Men Are Often Guilt-ridden About Pleasure, And I Suppose I Was No Different. I Suppose I Thought That To Pass Away One's Time In Such Places, To Spend One's Skills Celebrating Things So Intangible And Transient, I Suppose I Thought It All Rather Wasteful, All Rather Decadent. It's Hard To Appreciate The Beauty Of A World When One Doubts Its Very Validity

I Have The Feeling Of This Completely Alternative Person I Should Have Become. There Was Another Life That I Might Have Had, But I’m Having This One.

Our Family Arrived In England In 1960. At That Time I Thought The War Was Ancient History. But If I Think Of 15 Years Ago From Now, Thats 1990, And That Seems Like Yesterday To Me.

Perhaps It Is Indeed Time I Began To Look At This Whole Matter Of Bantering More Enthusiastically. After All, When One Thinks About It, It Is Not Such A Foolish Thing To Indulge In - Particularly If It Is The Case That In Bantering Lies The Key To Human Warmth.

There's A Practical Problem About Time And Energy, And A More Subtle Problem Of What It Does To A Writer's Head, To Continually Analyze Why They Write, Where It All Comes From, Where It's Going To.